


The Times Rose Tyler Wore My Clothes

by itsgoodtobealunatic (DragonGirl11)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Humorous Ending, POV First Person, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5098970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl11/pseuds/itsgoodtobealunatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tentoo talks about his favourite pink and yellow human and his favourite outfits on her - well, the ones he can talk about in public without having to sleep on the sofa tonight…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Times Rose Tyler Wore My Clothes

Rose Tyler wearing my clothes is one of my favourite things in all of creation. Maybe it’s because I don’t get to see it all that often. Rose is a clever girl, she doesn’t go out in the cold without being properly bundled up, so there goes a gentleman’s first chance. There was one time, though, on Woman Wept, when we were out in the cold longer than she thought we’d be, and she accepted my leather jacket. “But won’t you be cold?” she said. “It’s all you’ve got.” That’s my Rose. Always looking out for someone. I explained to her once again that Time Lords have superior cardiovascular systems, and we’re able to regulate heat far better than her little human skin. She took the leather jacket, wrapped it around herself, and snuggled into its warmth. She even smiled as she listened to me lecture all the way back to the TARDIS.

Then there was the time I took her swimming on that leisure planet. Weeeeellll, when I say I took her swimming, I mean she took me. Well, I say she took me, but it wasn’t really planned, and… Suffice it to say, one thing lead to another, and the only article of clothing left dry between the two of us was my trenchcoat. Which I promptly offered to her. Which she turned down because she’d get it all wet. “It’ll get just as wet on me,” I said firmly, holding the coat out to her. “You’re turning blue. You need it more than me.” She put it on and giggled at how the sleeves hung out over her hands.

Of course, I can’t forget the mornings after our encounter with the Wire. Happened quite a few times, actually. Even more since we’ve been here in Pete’s world. Once in particular, my sleepy-eyed companion stumbled into the kitchen, hair like a bird’s nest, wearing nothing besides my blue Oxford and a pair of sleep shorts. I slid her eggs out of the frying pan and onto a plate. She took them with a grunt of thanks and plunked down at the table. “How did you sleep?” I asked cheerily.

“Mm. Good,” she mumbled, smiling a little bit at me. I live for that smile. She stared blankly at my chest for a few seconds before saying, “Does y’r apr’n say ‘Kiss the Chef?’”

I grinned and walked over to her. I was wondering how long it would take her to notice. “It does indeed. And what are you going to do about that, Rose Tyler?” I said, standing by her chair. The heels of my Converse lifted off the ground and I bounced expectantly on my toes.

She smacked her lips a few times, looking up at me through heavy-lidded eyes. “Think ‘m gonna kiss ya,” she said. I really do love her sleepy voice. She stood up off her chair, brushed a few toast crumbs from my shirt, and stretched up on her tiptoes to grab me by the hair and pull my mouth down to hers. Her lips were soft and her movements sluggish. She tugged me back until she bumped the table. I hitched her leg up around my hip and then - weeeelllllll, I don’t think she’d appreciate it if I told you the rest of that one.


End file.
